


I'm just an animal looking for a home, Share the same  space for a minute or two

by sal_paradise



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Aid, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Pining, Soft Kisses, and he has it bad, he has it so bad he wants the ground to swallow him up, marcus is loopy with bloodloss, patching up wounds, speaking spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:03:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_paradise/pseuds/sal_paradise
Summary: End of Season 1  post the Exorcism of Angela  Rance. Tomas is just about  read to drop  from exhaustion  after his first successful exorcism  he intends to go home and sleep for 1000 years.except when he gets home he find a surprise  for him in the form of a bloody Marcus Keane





	I'm just an animal looking for a home, Share the same  space for a minute or two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Archaeodigit_dima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaeodigit_dima/gifts).



> I took some liberties with Marcus' injuries. made them worse I'm sure  
> boys caring for each other is my jam  
> if ya can't tell.
> 
> I can't tell one from the other  
> I find you, or you find me?  
> There was a time before we were born  
> If someone asks, this is where I'll be, where I'll be oh!  
> We drift in and out  
> Oh! Sing into my mouth  
> Out of all those kinds of people  
> You got a face with a view  
> I'm just an animal looking for a home and  
> Share the same space for a minute or two  
> And you love me till my heart stops  
> Love me till I'm dead~ this must be the place- talking heads

 

 

Tomas felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He ached in places he knew he shouldn't.

He was tired.

Beyond tired.

He was ready to collapse- as he fumbled for his keys.He had a hot date with some aspirin, a hot bath and a bed.

At least that’s what he planned; as he unlocked his door with a trembling hand, something shifted in the shadows.

 

Tomas, still high strung from the Rance’s situation, thinking it to be a demon or worse- swung without thinking, adrenaline still sky high as his arm was blocked easily.

“Easy easy padre it’s just me.” a voice rumbled out.

Tomas deflated slightly.

_ Marcus _ he sighed. 

 

There was a click and Marcus Keane in all his filth and fury stood before him, former priest in a tattered tank top and leather jacket. He stood rather stiffly in Tomas’ entrance, looking shaky and pale, dark circles hung under his eyes, blue and purple bruises peppered his neck and jaw, and his hands were coated in blood...Tomas blanched.

 

“Oh it's not that bad my love” Marcus managed but the smile didn't reach his eyes, he looked haggard, tired and ready to drop as Tomas felt.

He was somewhat relieved the feeling was mutual.

 

“ Why did you-” Tomas began.

“ Got nowhere else to go, safest place I could think of- sorry for the lock… again” Marcus managed sheepishly.  Tomas was going to make quick jab at this, but Marcus suddenly wavered and concern swept in good and strong.

Tomas shook his head “Ay hermano what did he do to you?”

“Nothing I can't handle”

“Marcus”

“Tomasss…” he parroted back, but Tomas was no fool. He knew a badly hurt man when he saw one.

He sighed pushing his own weariness aside.

He would come later.

Marcus first.

“Go sit” he indicated to his couch.

“Aye aye boss” a lazy smile, that faltered, as he made his way over to the couch on jittery limbs

_ He’s disoriented-, blood loss _ Tomas frowned “ jacket off and try not to bleed on the couch ” he managed after the other man.

 

“ Yes sir.. Who died and made you king…” he muttered.

Tomas sighed kneading the point between his eyebrows- he could feel the stress setting in.

Slowly, he made his way around his home gathering what he would need, clean towels, water, a basin, bandages, - thread for stitching- an ice pack, ointment, pain killers and made his way back to Marcus.

“Ay mierda” he managed softly,  _ it figured when it rains, it pours  _

“Language Tomas! The big man upstairs doesn’t like that!” Marcus sang song from the couch

Tomas rolled his eyes  _ How could he not? _

He leaned in trying to see how bad his friends injuries were- Marcus sat there in his ratty tank top, but Tomas gaze was hyper fixated on the blood that was running down his arm in rivulets from deep gashes on his forearms, bruises crept in and out from under the exposed clothing and from the way the other man was sitting Tomas knew his ribs had taken a nasty knocking as well.

He shook his head “we need to get you to a hospital. I i- can't do this”

Marcus paled- all humour gone.

“ Tomas please... I can't do that”

“I don't want to hurt you.”

“ you never could even if you tried.” Marcus snapped quietly

"Marcus-”

“Tomas please” Marcus begged “ they’ll take one look at me and lock me up. I look like I’m a danger to myself... that I'm not fit…” he dropped his gaze, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

Tomas eyes glanced to the rest of Marcus form, to the jagged cross hatching of cuts on his arm and shoulder that he had tattooed over and old raised wounds where his body had tried to make it all go away- if only in appearance.

And something in him wanted to roar and snarl over what had led marcus to cause himself such pain - how he had felt he had no way out but to hurt himself, that no one had loved him enough to protect him.

_ Never again _ . He thought not while Tomas was around.

Tomas let out a puff of air.

“Fine Marcus no hospital-”

Marcus nodded,  grateful.

“-But if this is worse than it looks I swear.”

“Yes, yes then they can strap me down and dope me up, but I hope it doesn’t have to come to that.”

_ Where was he to start? _

Tomas flicked on a nearby lamp he fetched. He put on his glasses and pulled up a chair inspecting the wounds, h e then cursed a blue streak when he saw the wounds were still oozing sluggish blood.

“Tomasito you'll never be a pope talking like that!” Marcus chided.

“Marcus listen, I need you to stay put for me okay? I got to sew these shut.”

Marcus stared blankly at him as Tomas went about sterilizing the needle and gently wiping away the drying flaking blood.Tomas  hissed in compassion as he gently took the cloth dipped in warm water and washed the blood off, he could feel the slight tremor that ran through Marcus’ arm as he perched his reading glasses on his nose.

 

“ Okay Marcus deep breath.” Tomas patiently threaded the needle and poised it over the sputtering wounds.

“ don’t I get a countdown?

“ no” Tomas managed as he made the incision

“Ouch! That’s smarts you butcher!”

“Baby ” Tomas huffed.

Marcus flinched slightly as he pierced the skin again.

“ calmate carino ” Tomas soothed

_ calm down darling _

“try not to move I don’t want to hurt you.” He began the gentle sweeping motion of pulling the thread through the torn flesh in rather elegant stitches.

“ you’re pretty good at that for a priest.”

Tomas chuckled despite himself “my abuela taught me  how to, she said It was a good skill to have- vow of charity and all that.”

Marcus hummed in agreement as he watch Tomas patiently stitch him back together like some sort of raggedy ann doll. 

 

.He was never what one would call a beautiful specimen he had been chewed up and spit out by the world since the day he was born. He was never someone anyone would do a double take for…

And yet here under Tomas’ dutiful gaze. His patience, his devotion focused on Marcus and **_only_** Marcus made something warm bloom in his chest.

He could learn to love that face, could die for it for it one day and probably soon.

He watched as his brow furrowed as he tied off the stitch and turned to the next arm. Biting his lip in concentration, looking regal and handsome with his thick rimmed glasses and luxurious  curls.

Yes, God had spent more time on this creation then others Marcus mused.A part of him wanted to hum in contentment that he had him that he should be grateful that God had dropped Tomas into his life; That he had allowed him to be in Tomas’s orbit. People went their whole lives sometimes without meeting the people they needed to.

But God had made Tomas walk through his door.

Marcus tried to not look at Tomas as he worked he was sewing him back together, dedicated to him.

Just him.

“Tomasito tan hermoso” Marcus slurred.

_ Tomasito, so beautiful _

Tomas sighed pausing to wipe sweat from his  brow,  trying to ignore the warmth creeping up his neck.

“ You’re dehydrated” he managed, and brought a cup of cold water to the other  exorcist’s cracked parched lips which Marcus sipped slowly, grateful.

“ mi angel guardian”

_ My guardian angel _

he managed as Tomas’ hand came to gently press a free hand to his forehead.

“Mmm a bit warm”

“Eres tan hermoso”

_ You’re so beautiful _ he slurred again “ ningun humano parce asi, sois mi ángel guardián,”

_ No human looks like that, you are _ **_my_ ** _ guardian angel _

Tomas snorted at that but  the blush crept up higher on his neck despite himself, he could feel the tips of his ears  burning hot.

 

“ Careful Marcus you’re giving me some blackmail fodder” Tomas joked as he tied off the last stitch and grabbed the ointment soothing the angry red skin around the wound; he taped down the gauze and gently went about spreading the ointment on busted bloody knuckles and some blossoming bruises on his neck.

Marcus clamped his eyes shut and shuddered .

“ sorry hermano was I too rough?”

 

Marcus could already imagine his distraught expression, those big sad puppy dog eyes that could render the strongest man weak in the knees with a simple look.

 

_ How do you tell him? _

How does he tell him that his touch is something he had been desperately seeking but something he could never ask for. How he felt safe, and warm and wanted when he was with Tomas.

 

That he didn't want it  to happen only when he was bleeding or weary, or hurt, he wanted to be loved, and held by someone who cared for him and he felt the same for . Mostly these days, he just wanted Tomas to wrap him in his arms and let him sleep on his chest, let him feel his heartbeat, cocooned in his warmth, his peace. Wanted to feel his presence, their souls intertwined.

He wanted him.

In anyway that the Lord allowed him to.

“ It’s fine” he grumbled.

Tomas gave him a small weary smile “ you probably look as tired as I feel.”

A growl of agreement.

“We're almost done- lift up your shirt let me take a look at those ribs”

Marcus flushed as Tomas went about lifting his threadbare shirt to reveal pale and sinewy flesh that Marcus was often embarrassed of. He could pass for a ghost. Or a ghost of a ghost. Exorcist didn't get much daylight. 

Tomas gently lifted the shirt while Marcus busied himself glancing away, he could feel the other man’s gaze  drilled on him-, he felt vulnerable, unworthy under the other man’s gaze to be his focus. It was especially hard because Tomas wasn't aware of how beautiful he truly was; how it felt to be next to him, to be seen by him.

 

Marcus flushed as delicate hands were suddenly on his abdomen prodding and poking feeling along his ribs. It was like sparks going off wherever Tomas fingers fell and he had to hold back a small noise of hurt and contentment.

 

“Just looks like bruising nothing out of place” Tomas managed.

Marcus nodded as those big brown eyes drifted to him “let’s get some food in you. You’re probably tired and ready for bed.”

A small child like nod as Tomas  led him to his bed, laying him down gently, where he lets the t.v. hum quietly in the background. Marcus can feel his eyes drooping before Tomas returns with a bowl and mug.

“Sit up Marcus, gently” Tomas managed as he wrapped his arms around the older man propping him up in bed.”Some sopa de pollo.”

_ Chicken soup  _ Marcus  muses inwardly.

As the younger man  brought the spoon to his lips, Marcus felt a wave of anxiety of being treated like a child,b ut Tomas simply chided him “relax Marcus. I got it”  He ran soothing circles down the exorcist’s back as he helped the other man eat the warm soup.

It was delicious.

“Abuela’s recipe?”

Tomas nodded and Marcus  hummed in contentment. He was slowly coaxed  by his partner into drinking some tea, trying not to jostle him too much-  all the hot liquid made Marcus sweat.

Tomas dutifully dabbed it away.

“ You should sleep you’re exhausted” Tomas managed after his partner had eaten.

“Hmm thats the pot calling the kettle black no Tomas?”

Tomas tsked

“ You need a full night of sleep without interruptions, no demons, no priests to hog the bed. Now I’ll get you some extra blankets.”  He went to stand, but this sent a trill of panic though Marcus  despite himself he reached out blindly latching onto the younger man's arm is surprisingly tight grip.

“No te vayas” 

_ Don’t  go _

Marcus begged, a part of him flushed in embarrassment of  the needy pleading tone in his voice “por favor. No me dejas solo.”

_ Please don’t leave me alone _

 

And in that moment, the veneer fell away and Tomas could see him for what he truly was- a man who needed love and affection, who was positively starved for it and drew it from wherever he could get it;  like a stray cat, eagerly bumping himself against people he trusted hoping to get pet.

Tomas ached suddenly and fiercely.

Had he not felt the same?

He often wanted more affection, but his calling while it made him close to God- sometimes separated him from his fellow man- looking into those crystal blue eyes, that yearning, that loneliness was like looking in a mirror.

 

“No me voy ningun lado”

_ I'm not going anywhere _

Tomas managed as he sat down on the bed, Marcus’ hand finding his and and nervously intertwined calloused fingers with the young priests.

 

Their eyes me again, as Tomas moved, lying himself down on the empty spot of his bed, and before he could doubt himself, he pulled Marcus to him, as gently as he could in one fluid swoop- taking the lead; pressing him into his warmth, trying to be the comfort he knows he would want from others.

“Estas bien. No tengas miedo.”

_ You’re fine- don’t be afraid _ Tomas managed, he could tell the man was as stiff as board against him. “ Yo te protegere.”

_ I’ll protect you. _

Slowly, he hitched,the man up into his arms, rubbing his back as one would a child, humming a hymn under his breath. The body against him  almost tentatively in Tomas arms realized he wasn't in danger, and relaxed, Tomas watched as the older man adjusted himself, his injured arms coming to rest on the priests hips, he let out a small sigh as Tomas rested a hand on the back of his neck, cocooning him in warmth

“Duerme mi amor”  _  sleep my love _ he managed “ I'll be here.”

Marcus doesn't respond, already asleep face pressed in Tomas’ chest.

Xxx

 

Marcus  dreams

He knows right away it’s not a good one, he's back in the warehouse he was held in with Bennett. Except... Except it's not him in the chair, it’s-

 

“Tomas” he whispers and the form before him lifts his head and Marcus is staring into the bloodied and bruised face of Tomas Ortega, dark eyes gleaming- but he looks so tired, the older man can tell it is  taking all his strength to keep Marcus’ gaze.

“Marcus please” he rasps “fight, fight it harder this isn’t you!”

Marcus feels chill go through him, why was he saying that?

unless..

Something was wrong...

It couldn't be...

It wasn't possible...

He wasn’t in control it wasn’t him.He couldn’t move

Christ.

The panic was setting in at being trapped in his own body

_ NO _

_ NO _

_ NO _

 

But despite himself he’s moving closer to the prone form he sees his hand lift Tomas' gaze to him

“M-marcus please” Tomas  managed weakly “ you’re stronger than this.”

 

“Is he really Tomas? Do you really think so?” his voice rasps out without his accord. 

“ your brave mentor, your teacher, your  fearless leader is that is? The man who looks in the face of evil and laughs?

Tomas is quiet.

“ You and I both know that's not true. He's weak. Weak for someone to want him, to need him, to show him they care for him.”

Tomas shakes his head stubbornly.

Love makes you weak Tomas. Learn from your friend”

“But who does-”

“Don’t you know Tomas that we always hurt the ones we love?” At his words, he removed a large jagged knife from behind his back

Marcus froze

No-please don’t

“Let's test that theory hmm?”

“No, please no-”

But before Marcus can try to wrangle his body into his control the knife plunges down into the younger man.. There’s a thud of impact and then...

There’s silence.

 then a high wheezing noise emerges from Tomas as the younger man reaches almost blindly for his partner, dazed, brown eyes look up into his so lost.

“M-marcus?” He manages before he coughs and blood begins to pour out of his mouth

“Marcus p-please ayudame no me dejas solo.”

_ Please help me, don't leave me alone _

“NO TOMAS!”

He can hear almost hysterical laughter that bubbles out that sounds like him and not him at the same time.

Suddenly he can hear Tomas voice cutting through the chaos

**“Marcus Marcus!”**

 Marcus snaps awake.

For a moment he doesn’t know where he is. His heart is racing in his chest as he fumbles and fails to get up.

“It’s okay, its okay quierdo it was just a dream.”

Soft, soothing words cut through the din.

And their  like a balm for  him- Marcus all but goes boneless as  he suddenly relaxes at the words

“It was just a dream, it’s okay.” the tone is slightly  concerned

Marcus blinks and see he had fallen asleep, in his movement to get comfortable he had ended up splayed on top of Tomas’ chest like a kitten seeking warmth. He could hear Tomas’ strong steady heartbeat under him, and he looked up into those warm, honey golden brown eyes.

He smiled slightly.

“ Are you with me Marcus?”

He nodded numbly, embarrassment starting to awaken in him like backlashing wave he needs to-

But the arm gripping and supporting him tightened.

“Don’t even think it. You’re not moving anywhere. No seas loco”  

_don't be crazy_

“I-i’m sorry”

“For what having a bad dream? After what we’ve been through, I’d expect no less” Tomas chuckled softly, Marcus moving with the movement of his laughter.

“En que sonaste?”

_ What did you dream of? _

Marcus averts his gaze.

“Marcus..”

“En ti. En peligro. En.. tu muerte” he whispers.

 

_ In you, in danger in… your  death _

A hand finds the back of his head, softly soothing the grey fuzz of hair he had “Paca a todo el mundo."

_ It happens to everyone _

” his tone is now mussed with sleep as he give him a sad smile.

“Incluso yo. "

_ Even me _

_ " _ we'll all be gone someday, we just run more of risk in what we do. It could be by other's  hands or our own."

Marcus shakes his head “not by my  hand, I would never let that happen I-” he pauses- he knows he rambling as Tomas watches him with curious eyes.

Tomas surprises him then by leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

 

“I know you wouldn't.. I trust you, you will always keep me safe Marcus... Always.

Marcus is moved by his words and without much thinking, in one fluid motion he bring his lips against Tomas kissing him gently.

 

Tomas is surprised by how gentle and curious  and a little clumsy the kiss is, it’s testing the waters but savouring them as well- in an instant it’s over.

And Marcus stares at him dumbfounded, fear blossoming in his eyes, he looks like he was ready to make a panicked race for the door.

“I’m sorry Tomas I don’t -”

“Marcus it’s okay.”

“ That's not my place I-”

Tomas cuts him off by simply returning the gesture. Its shy in a way Tomas is not, but he doesn’t pull away, there’s something there-  longing? As Tomas pulls him hungrily deeper.

At last they break apart

“Esta bien Marcus”

_ You’re  fine Marcus _

He manages as he places a gentle hand on his cheek to hold his gaze.

“ vas a estar bien  we both will.”

 

He gently, stroked Marcus’ cheek, the other man looks at him with dazed, wide  eyes- no one had given him love so easily without making him pay for it later- but with Tomas he could see himself  trusting him- opening up to him and believing in him- despite his past he couldn't help even after... after being let down so much he finally found something to fight for  he wanted so badly to believe in him.

And for the time being he did.

He nodded and Tomas smile of agreement is enough to light him from the inside, make him feel longing and yearning and aching happiness at once.

He never wanted to leave his side.

He was meant to be there.

“Come on, it’s still late lets get some rest.” Tomas manages and once again he wraps his arms around the older man, and they fit together like puzzle pieces as if they were always meant to be there.

Marcus all but melts and purrs in contentment as Tomas embraces him in his warmth;  pressed into the crook of his neck. He can feel their heart beats syncing and as the younger man sighs and pulling him tighter to him in sleep, Marcus can imagine the gentle smile forming on his lips as he relaxes into sleep trying to protect him  as he knew he was protected- and Marcus feels thankful in away he hasn’t in years. God had led Tomas to him.

He was his.

He would not let him go.

I will protect him.

He will protect me.

And it was right.

**Author's Note:**

> dont tell people how i live: life-on-the-geek-side at the tumbllrrr


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